Mask
by Lyla Hayden
Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. (HD Slash)
1. Part One: Midnight Trances

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Just a brief introduction is in order, I believe, before I get on with my tale. First off, this takes place in seventh year. While it is the most commonly used year, it is also the year where the boys are their oldest while still in school, which comforts me a bit when thinking of the details I use. :Cough:

I have yet to perfect my writing style and I understand this. So please no flames. Those who leave reviews should know the difference between constructive criticism and just completely demolishing the hopes and dreams of a writer-in-training.

Also, while I do like hearing nice things about my stories, don't just say, "I liked it! Write more!" Tell me more. Tell me what you liked. If you just liked the smut, fine. Say so. This 'brief' introduction is turning out to be quite long, so I'll get on with the story. Thank you to those that bothered to read all this junk. I hope you enjoy my story.

"Mask"

Part One:

"Midnight Trances"

The wind howled, circling about the Quidditch field. A blur of red and gold flew by, zooming recklessly around. Raven hair tousled all over the place, getting in the boy's passionate emerald eyes. His thick, callused hands gripped at the broomstick with which he flew, letting go suddenly and falling gracefully a good five feet to land effortlessly on his feet.

A Firebolt fell into one open hand as the Gryffindor headed towards the school. No one had ever seen him during these late-night excursions and he planned to keep it that way. A pair of round glasses flew to his hand from a bench twenty feet from where he was, not bothering to pause in his long, confident strides.

The glasses were balanced on his nose before they were casually pushed back. He swung his Firebolt up over the length of his shoulder blades, as his body seemed to disappear into the darkness of the shadows surrounding him.

Near the Gryffindor tower, the same figure emerged from the shadows to whisper carefully chosen words to the portrait. He sank back into the darkness only to reappear up in the seventh-year boys' dormitories.

Daylight now squeaked its way through the tightly closed drapes, reaching out across the floor in soft wisps. The raven-head sank into the soft sheets of his four-poster bed. After removing his glasses, he laid down with his eyes closed.

Sheets wrinkled up around the boy as he mimicked a full night of sleep in the two hours that remained before breakfast. A noisy voice disrupted him from his short nap. "Oh, Harry! You slept in your uniform again?"

A grunt and, "So that I can be ready to leave before you, Ron." The redhead smirked and playfully smacked his friend's arm. "Be down in a minute, buddy." He nodded and made his way out the door.

Harry Potter climbed out of bed after the door had shut and stretched. His hands found his glasses, wand, and pack all set up and ready for the day. A mirror reflected his rough image and he fussed with his hair briefly before heading out.

The length, reaching just to above his shoulder, didn't help too much with the unruly locks of black, but it made a difference. White light flashed and Harry blinked, eyeing the young Gryffindor wearily. "Colin, it's too early for that."

"It's never to early, Harry!" The boy laughed and raced off to breakfast. Raven locks moved as the Golden Boy shook his head.

Breakfast was once again uneventful. It was the hype of the day for some and very interesting, but to someone who faced death last year by the name of Voldemort, it was uneventful. Nothing provoked any reaction that was not a reaction brought on by "Mask."

"Mask" was nice, charming, brave, all the qualities that the students of Hogwarts would expect of the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Kill-Voldemort. "Mask" was always there except when he was alone, flying over the grassy field of the Quidditch field. Most importantly, the only one who knew of Mask's existence was Harry Potter.

The bell echoed throughout the halls, signaling the start of first period Potions for the seventh-years. The special class was given only to those that got the highest of high marks on their O.W.L.S. and was so rare, only twenty students got in.

Oddly enough, Harry had scored high enough to earn himself a spot in the small class. Not surprising, the bookworm Hermione Granger had also gotten in, as did Draco Malfoy and quite a few Slytherins. Although, who would expect any less?

A smug voice flittered through the room. "Take your seats by your partner. You have until the end of the period to complete the project on the board and hand it in. The last pair to hand in their project gets cleaning duties. Begin."

Loud shuffling, chairs moving, people running all over, all those noises went in one ear and out the other once a certain blonde Slytherin set the supplies down on Harry's table. "Start preparing the supplies while I get the rest."

That was all he said before walking off in a silent, brooding manner. Hermione leaned over to him and whispered, "He's been so weird ever since that…incident last year. It really couldn't have affected him so much, could it?"

Harry shrugged and went about doing as Draco had said. Small cream-coloured bits of Hypura Root fell into a porcelain bowl, the white petals of a rose following. The silvery knife slid through even the roughest of material as Harry mentally checked off what had to be cut and mixed in this way.

Next came a few slivers of a unicorn's horn. Those came away slowly as Harry's mind drifted back to his first year here. Unicorn, Voldemort, blood, Voldemort, darkness, Voldemort, fear, Voldemort…

Red drops fell into the mix and Harry looked down at his work. The knife had sliced into his finger quite deeply. There was no pain but for the aching thoughts of the ruined mixture. _No_, Harry thought, _I was supposed to add human blood, just not my own_.

"You weren't supposed to add the blood yet, Potter," muttered an irritated, drawling voice from behind him.

"I didn't mean to, Malfoy. My mind was elsewhere." The boy pushed himself to his feet and walked up to the Potion Master's desk. "Infirmary." The greasy head nodded and Harry headed out. _Another uneventful day in an uneventful world_, he thought as he let Madam Pomfrey treat the wound.

Time passed slowly for the rest of the day. Harry had let Mask fall asleep on the job during potions, but he came back once he reached the infirmary. Mask was sleeping now as Harry made his shadowy journey to the Quidditch pitch long after lights-out.

The Firebolt sang its delighted song of flight before Harry desired the air. The broom swung mindlessly around in the air five or six feet from the ground as Harry removed his glasses and blinked his eyes clear.

"Damn things." Harry let spells fall from his tongue as if they were a part of him. The glasses glowed softly, then dimmed. It had been a rather complicated spell to fake poor eyesight that he'd found his fifth year, just after finding the simple one to fix his eyes.

Shoes were kicked free and bare feet sought the air, the Firebolt finding itself a rider. He didn't even need to call it over for it heard his wishes to be airborne. Wind caressed his face as he flew around the field.

Thoughts fell from his head as if they were never there. There was Harry, the Firebolt, and the gentle air surrounding them. They knew no boundaries. Height was never an issue. The Forbidden Forest found him too dangerous to bother, the remnants of last year still present within its borders.

A soft note of song rose from the Gryffindor, pulsating through the air. The sound grew in intensity, changing ever so often the pitch of the note. It was a song of old. Magic leaked from the tune, leaked and made the flying figure glow with the raw power.

Hours flew by like seconds until the sun began to make its way towards the day. Feet touched the ground, boots somehow once more on the boy's feet. The broom fell gently into Harry's hand, the other reached out to call his glasses towards him.

As he made his way towards the shadows he saw a blur within the corridor. "Malfoy," Harry said softly, but loud enough to make the Slytherin hear. "What the hell 're you doing out so early?"

"Late, you mean," came the icy response. "You've been here since well after midnight."

"You spied on me?" Harry let out a hoarse laugh, his voice a bit sore from his singing. A blond eyebrow arched in question.

"You can drop the mask, Potter."

-To be continued

A/N: …I like writing this one since I know what I want to happen…Unlike all my other stories where I made it up as I went, a lot of the time hitting a massive wall…This story WILL go somewhere…I hope… :Blush: Anyway, review? (Read first A/N if you haven't already.) Thank you for reading. n.n


	2. Part Two: Routine

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Well, as I make my way into part two of this I seem to have trouble making the words flow from my head to my fingers. A common problem for me. Thank you to those who took the time to review. I am going somewhere with this…and…eventually it will become clear. Also, I have a very busy schedule, so please be patient. n.n; Well, here's part two of "Mask"!

"Mask"

Part Two:

"Routine"

As he made his way towards the shadows he saw a blur within the corridor. "Malfoy," Harry said softly, but loud enough to make the Slytherin hear. "What the hell 're you doing out so early?"

"Late, you mean," came the icy response. "You've been here since well after midnight."

"You spied on me?" Harry let out a hoarse laugh, his voice a bit sore from his singing. A blond eyebrow arched in question.

"You can drop the mask, Potter." Harry froze, his mind racing. Mask, he knew about Mask. How could he know about Mask? Mask was…was Harry. "This isn't the first time I've seen you out here. That is who you are, not this."

"You're insane, Malfoy!" Harry shook his head vigorously. He was being himself. Mask wasn't there. Such thoughts ran ferally through his mind. Pushing his way past the Slytherin, he sank into the shadows before the blonde head turned to see.

"Damn him and his lousy tricks." Arms crossed over his chest, he stalked on after the boy, knowing exactly where he was going. Gryffindor Tower loomed up ahead and steel eyes took it in without a second thought. A portrait up ahead swung closed and Draco cursed, for he had lost his prey.

Back in the sanctuary of his own bed, Harry sat wondering. Mask had indeed made an appearance that night. "Why couldn't I shake him off?" Harry asked aloud. "I am not Mask, and Mask does not control me! So why couldn't I be me? Why was Malfoy there?" Harry cursed himself as Dean stirred in a bed near him.

The boy did not wake. Comforted by the thought that he could still be himself when all lights were out and no one was there, he laid down and fell into a soft slumber. Perfect dreams were invaded by Draco and Mask, plaguing him until Ron woke him the next morning.

"Sleep in your clothes again?" Came the disgruntled reply when Harry stirred only slightly.

"Always, Ron," Harry murmured, still in a haze of sleep. Harry felt as if he ha been pushed far away, back into the corner of the room, while Mask took over his body. Harry Potter was not the one these boys liked. Mask was the one they liked.

Harry seemed to watch from afar as the day dragged on, Mask laughing with his friends, shouting foul names when Draco insulted Ron or Hermione. Finally, night fell and all the pleasure that came with the night surrounded Harry as he walked within the shadows towards the only place he truly felt free.

Horror crept upon him when he found Draco sitting on his broom just around the corner of the field. "Malfoy!" he shouted, voice squeaking with fear and surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to practice. That's all. Stop being so pissy." Those stale words seemed to echo through Harry's head as the Slytherin took to the air. "Just ignore me." Harry hissed softly and began his nightly routine.

Glasses were discarded. Spells were cast. The Firebolt was left to float alone. Boots were cast aside. Bare feet left the ground to mount the eager Firebolt. Steel eyes looked on as the enigma that was once Harry Potter rose to fly with a grace Draco had never seen before.

Within minutes, a song charmed the air. Draco froze in his flight patterns to watch the Gryffindor boy become an entirely new person. He had seen this before, but never so close. The sight brought shivers through his very core.

The raven head radiated a sort of majestic beauty that all wished to possess. The Slytherin's eyes lay glued to the now glowing form flying around the field. Not even Voldemort himself could make Draco's eyes stray.

Hours passed, but it seemed to be mere seconds. Before he even knew it, dawn was approaching and Harry's feet touched down. His routine continued as glasses were replaced and the Firebolt was tossed across his shoulders.

The blonde touched down moments later, his footsteps following after Harry's. Harry seemed to be lost in a trance, walking as if floating on air. Ghost-like, he moved towards the shadows to disappear completely.

Draco hurried to where he had last spotted the boy, but there was nothing to be found. The enigma must have forgotten that the Slytherin boy had been watching or he couldn't have done any of what he had just done.

It wasn't until the next morning that Draco saw Harry again. Icy silver met heated emerald across the Great Hall. Something was different about the Gryffindor. _His eyes_, Draco thought silently. _His eyes lack malice. Odd_.

Class started and everyone was on the edge of their seats. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter had yet to have their daily bout. It was bound to spring upon them at any moment, the time building up just adding to the intensity that would be their brawl.

A blanket of silence was dropped over the Potions classroom from the very start. Even Severus Snape noticed the tension. Oddly enough, the tension was not focused between one Harry Potter and one Draco Malfoy. The entire room was bursting with it.

Try as he might, the great Potions Master couldn't seem to form any words; he just made some odd sounds and went back into his study. The tension stunned Severus for a moment, but he came out almost as soon as the door had shut behind him.

"Study for your O.W.L.S.," was all he could say before he went back into his study. Severus Snape did not want to be in the same room when the two started fighting. Draco Malfoy was most definitely his father's son as he had the same raw talent with seemingly no limit. And Harry Potter; he defeated the Dark Lord in less than half an hour. Enough said. Severus would have no chance to stop it should they fight.

Back in the classroom, not one of the students moved, their eyes glued to the table that sat before them. Harry tapped Hermione on the shoulder and she jumped nearly five feet. "Bloody hell, Har! You scared me!" she whispered, hand over her rapidly beating heart.

"Sorry," Harry said without bothering to lower his voice. The tense students all flinched, although the Gryffindor did not seem to notice. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"Shh!" Glancing around, the girl leaned in and whispered, "Don't speak so loud. Everyone is jumpy because you and Malfoy haven't fought yet. It's usually worse the longer you two wait. We are just waiting to see who'll die in the crossfire."

One corner of Harry's mouth turned up in a soft smirk, Mask briefly fading from view. "Guess we don't feel like fighting, eh?" A soft chuckle could be heard from the Slytherin side of the room showing that Draco had heard.

The rest of the class was spent in the silence of watchfulness or work, mostly the first. Even after the bell, everyone exited as quietly and as quickly as possible. Hermione didn't want to wait for the slow Harry Potter to pack, so she said she'd meet up with him later.

The only ones left in the room after a total of two minutes were Harry and Draco. Both ignored each other as they left. A nervous Severus slipped out of his study and went to inform the Headmaster of the strange hour.

That night, Harry quietly moved out of Gryffindor Tower and out towards the Quidditch pitch using the shadows for cover as always. As he emerged from the shadows near the field, Draco stood waiting for him, his own broom in hand.

Harry walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. He went about his nightly routine without a second glance to the blonde behind him. Glasses and shoes were discarded and Harry took to the air. Behind him, Draco sighed heavily and followed, ready for another long night of watching the enigma that fascinated him so much.

-To Be Continued

A/N: Just wondering…How many people read the author's notes at the beginning or end? I know a few of you did, for which I am very grateful. To those who didn't, I'm still happy you read my story. n.n Thanks. Be nice in your reviews? I'm starting to get to the plot…I swear. I don't plan on dragging this story out for very long, I just don't like really long chapters. It makes it harder to read and it would make me update less. I'm trying, I really am. I'll update again soon, I hope…


	3. Part Three: Another Wet Kiss

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Part Three…Yay! Oh, and I thought I should mention this…someone mentioned that Harry was speaking of the mask as a person. Well, in a way, Mask is a person. Mask is a personality that Harry has taken as himself. So, in a sense, Mask is a person, just not a person like you would want to think. n.n' Also, on a personal note…I…hate…hair dye…I wanted _pink_! It is _not_ pink! It is _glowy_! One week later, it's almost _gone_! . Gawd. :Cough: Anyway…On to the story.

"Mask"

Part Three:

"Another Wet Kiss"

Harry quietly moved out of Gryffindor Tower and out towards the Quidditch pitch using the shadows for cover as always. As he emerged from the shadows near the field, Draco stood waiting for him, his own broom in hand.

Harry walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. He went about his nightly routine without a second glance to the blonde behind him. Glasses and shoes were discarded and Harry took to the air. Behind him, Draco sighed heavily and followed, ready for another long night of watching the enigma that fascinated him so much.

The next day would have been the same, but the tension level in Potions had escalated to the point where Severus called it a day and let them all leave. Harry laughed at the way his friends were acting ad told them he'd see them at lunch.

Making up some lame excuse, Harry slipped away to the Quidditch pitch. The Firebolt, having been left in the Gryffindor tower, proved to be unneeded for the Boy-Who-Lived to vent. Harry left his boots on, but tossed his glasses onto the grass.

He let his robes drape loosely over him and he stood in the middle of the field and looked towards the sky, eyes closed. Thoughts faded to be replaced by a metallic song, falling from Harry's tongue soft enough so that no one inside the castle could hear.

Quiet feet padded bare-footed across the grass to where the oblivious boy stood. Only a few inches from the boy, Draco stopped and looked at him. Not looked as in observing, but looked as in seeing all that he was, mind, body, and soul.

A pale hand reached out to touch the slightly glowing boy, fingers grazing gently over one tanned cheek down to the parted pink lips releasing such a mesmerizing sweet song. Emerald eyes opened as the song finished.

"Malfoy?" came a husky voice, strained from the vocalized power.

"Mmm?" Draco stared into the emerald stones, cold with apathy. "What?" Letting his hand fall to his side, he gazed into the eyes of the boy that was once his mortal enemy.

"You okay?"

"You're enchanting," Draco whispered as he walked over to where his shoes lay, tapping them on with as much patience as he could muster. 'Damn him,' Draco thought. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was falling for the floating ghost boy.'

Harry watched the blonde walk away, feeling the lingering touch of such soft fingers against his rough skin. "Enchanting?" came a soft whisper from the middle of the field, unheard by the one it was directed at.

Having finished his venting, Harry went to lunch. Two dark shapes fell over his shadow. With a quick spin, Harry avoided the clutches of one Vincent Crabbe. Gregory Goyle reached out for him, but another jump back fixed him out of reach.

A flick of the wrist and his wand was at the ready, aimed at the two Slytherins. Before one syllable could come from Harry's parted lips, a cool, drawling voice said, "Don't bother." And that was all. The two Slytherin buffoons backed off, and Harry was left staring at the blonde.

Icy steel eyes stared though the Gryffindor in a way that made him feel naked. Draco stepped up to him and rested a hand on the raven locks. He walked off to lunch, but not before making sure that Harry heard him whisper, "See ya, Harry."

Stunned and confused, Harry sat at the Gryffindor table next to his two best friends. Mask wasn't there, maybe Mask was on vacation. When Harry truly wanted the protection Mask provided, Mask was nowhere to be found.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Harry turned to look at Ron. "Harry?"

"What? Oh, nothing." He felt as if Mask was back, but his face remained indifferent, nothing like the wizarding world's famous 'Harry Potter'.

"You're acting really weird," Hermione rested one hand on his forehead, the other on her own forehead to feel if he was sick. "Hmm…Harry?" But Harry's mind wasn't there any more, for right across from him sat one special Slytherin who looked his way and smiled.

Crimson crept to his cheeks and his eyes darted away. Unknown to the rest of the student body, a chuckle rose from the Ice Prince, accompanied by a slight blush. 'He is such a strange guy. Don't fall too hard, now,' Draco told himself silently.

It wasn't until that weekend that the two spoke again. It was a Hogsmeade weekend. Since his now legal guardian Remus Lupin refused to sign the required paperwork, Harry was stuck in the castle alone.

Draco chose this opportunity to make Mask leave once more. Approaching the Gryffindor near the gate proved to be hazardous. Chilling drops of water fell, drenching him with the icy freshness of the winter snow.

"Oh hell…" the boy cursed, glancing up at the tree that had decided to give way and release the mass amounts of snow just as he walked beneath it. Clothes sticking to him, he shrugged it off and walked up to Harry.

"You are sooo…drenched, Malfoy?" the ravenhead snickered.

"No kidding. Would you come with me to the dungeons?" At the stiffening of the other boy, the blonde added, "No one is there and if I wanted to do something, I already would have." When Harry still looked unsure, Draco sighed and gave in. "What about to your dorms, then?"

"Alright…I guess," Harry muttered reluctantly. After a few moments of standing, or in Draco's case, shivering, in silence, Draco bluntly said he didn't know the way, though he did. "Oh, well, it's this way."

The trip to Gryffindor Tower was done in silence, one muttered password gaining them admittance to the Gryffindor Common Room. Draco huffed. "Bright and cheery." Glancing around briefly, he added, "Warm, too."

Harry shrugged. "It's Gryffindor."

"The Slytherin Dungeons get like ice this time of year," came a slightly chattering response from the dripping Slytherin Prince. It took Harry a moment to realize that Draco needed to be dried off before he caught a cold.

"Ah, I'll go get you a towel. If it doesn't bother you too much, I'll also get you a change of clothes while you wait for these to dry." Draco nodded, watching Harry walk up one of the staircases towards his dormitory.

The warmth of the Gryffindor tower seeped through Draco's wet clothing, seeming to only increase his chills. Slowly, he peeled off his cloak and shirts, wringing them out next to the fireplace and hanging them up above it with a quick stick spell.

"I've brought some of my clothes down, but they will be rather big seeing as they were my cousin Dudley's first," Harry said as he came down the stairs clumsily, holding a large pile of clothes and towels.

"Mmm," was all Draco said when he looked over the array of clothing. His small frame could fit inside the muggle clothing at least two times over. "It's fine." The soft towel absorbed the water in his hair, face, and torso before he moved to strip his pants.

Doing what is only polite, Harry turned his back. The redness of Harry's cheeks suggested that he hadn't turned around soon enough to have it called being polite. Draco pulled on the obscenely large clothing and grimaced at the look of it.

"Harry, I'm still wet and these clothes…" Blonde locks sprayed drops of water around the room proving his claim that towel-drying wouldn't work. Harry turned around and cracked a smile. "I really don't think I like you looking at me like that…"

"You look…"

"Stupid."

"I was going to say cute. You remind me of a kid trying on his father's clothing." He had to suppress the urge to laugh at the face Draco made. "Oh, your tag…" Stepping closer, Harry reached around Draco and tucked the offender in. Steel eyes locked onto shinning emerald and Draco softly pressed his lips to Harry's.

To be continued

A/N: Bwaha…I'm wicked. Ahem, yeah, so that was the hardest chapter to write so far. Wah! I kept getting distracted! So sorry! But thank you for your support. Seeing such detailed reviews really warms my heart and helps me to focus on my writing. Thanks. Until next time. Pwa!(Wave)


	4. Part Four: Dreams and Thoughts

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Maha…I got so many 'update now' reviews. Bwaha…I'm wicked. I know. But here's the update. I promise to…TRY not to leave the end like that again…maybe…And the "incident" was that thing mentioned near the beginning about Draco, right? Just try to visualize a timeline. Think about what happened last year and who hasn't been mentioned yet, who usually is, that is. Anyway, I will explain it more in the next chapter. So, here's part four of Mask.

"Mask"

Part Four:

"Dreams and Thoughts"

"Harry, I'm still wet and these clothes…" Blonde locks sprayed drops of water around the room proving his claim that towel-drying wouldn't work. Harry turned around and cracked a smile. "I really don't think I like you looking at me like that…"

"You look…"

"Stupid."

"I was going to say cute. You remind me of a kid trying on his father's clothing." He had to suppress the urge to laugh at the face Draco made. "Oh, your tag…" Stepping closer, Harry reached around Draco and tucked the offender in. Steel eyes locked onto shinning emerald and Draco softly pressed his lips to Harry's.

Harry jumped back in shock, breaking the tender kiss. "Yes, well, I actually wanted to speak with you for a moment about something rather personal," Draco said as if nothing had just happened. "I have a very, very big favor to ask of you."

Emerald eyes shone with confusion, and a few other emotions the ravenhead didn't want to think about, behind the bubbles of his glasses. "A favor? You don't want me to run around the school naked or something, do you?" he asked skeptically.

Draco let out a crystal laugh causing the poor Gryffindor to blush. "No, no. But it might end up being just as bad." Harry raised an eyebrow in silent question. "I want you to attend a dinner my aunt has been preparing all year for my parents. I need a date-and stop looking at me like that-but I don't want to take any of the Slytherins. I need a powerful partner, and it would look good to have the boy who defeated the Dark Lord with me." He paused for a moment. "And I would like you to come with me."

It took a moment for what was said was actually understood. Harry gapped at the boy. "You, want me to go with you to a FAMILY thing?" A nod. "Are you bloody nuts, Malfoy! I'm a Potter, half-blooded, and the one who defeated the man who held the Malfoy loyalty!"

Draco looked at him, anger burning behind the hurt in his eyes. "I never was loyal to that…that freak they called 'Master', and I wasn't alone in this either, Harry, and you know that. You would think after the battle last year, you'd know that I was on your side."

Wet clothes flew from the fireplace into the outstretched hand of one very irritated and pissed off Slytherin. "I'll send Polaris up with these clothes in about twenty minutes. Keep your window open so he can get in."

Before Harry could process what had happened in the past five minutes, the portrait was closing behind the blonde. Numbly, Harry walked up to his room and pushed open the window as Draco had requested.

'_You would think after the battle last year, you'd know that I was on your side_,' Draco had told him angrily._ It is understandable that he was angry over what I had said_, one part of Harry's mind whispered to him. _But what I said was true, at least up until the last month or so before the battle_, another part debated.

Setting his glasses on his bed, he sat up against the windowsill as he had so many times before, watching the day move outside the castle without him. A hand appeared in front of his face snapping him out of his thoughts.

The hand was attached to a person. _No, not a person_, Harry corrected. It was something else entirely. The glowing creature had the body of a woman covered with a glowing blue sash in all the right places. Sprouting from her back were large, silver wings that matched her long silver hair. Delicate hands held out the clothes that Harry had loaned out to Draco.

"You…You're Polaris?" The creature didn't respond, only pushed the clothes a bit closer with added urgency. Harry took them from her quickly, hoping that she would respond then. Without a word, the figure flew off, disappearing just out of Harry's line of view.

Harry looked down at the clothes and found a note sitting on top of them. Hurriedly, Harry pulled the letter open and sighed sadly. The note read, "Thank you for the loan. If you change your mind, meet me in Hogsmeade tomorrow morning at six. I will wait for you there. Be prompt and dress nicely."

Harry sat the letter beside his glasses, tossing the clothes into the open trunk at the end of his bed. "Well, Malfoy, you can wait, but I won't be there. I do not want to go to a Death Eater reunion. Plus, I own nothing 'nice'."

Harry huffed and flopped onto his bed, careful not to disturb his glasses and the letter. Laying back, he closed his eyes for a well-deserved afternoon nap to pass the time. He had not known how tired he was until he closed his eyes and was drawn into the world of dreams.

**It was raining; it was always raining. The Great Battle against Voldemort raged for hours, seemingly without end. A vicious cry of "Avada Kedavra" sent the wicked Bellatrix Lestrange to her grave at the hand of Harry Potter.**

**All around the boy of sixteen people fell, cold or writhing in pain. None of it seemed to cause any emotions to stir. Standing there, wand shooting off as many spells as he could think of, he remained dead to all around him until cruel red eyes met his.**

**Pain shot through the lightning bolt scar on his forehead as his wand locked with Voldemort's wand, the twin of his own. Both knew it would be one or the other. "Only one of us will walk away from this, Tom," Harry yelled at him, which was unneeded seeing as the fighting around him had ceased to watch the fight.**

**By calling him by his birth name, Harry succeeded in fully pissing the man off. Struggling to remain calm, Voldemort hissed, "You have no chance against a full wizard, dear Harry. I have read every dark arts book that there is, and I can very well use each and every one of them on you before you fall."**

**This was true, and everyone knew it. No one knew that fact more than Harry himself. Of course, Harry had not come unprepared. He, too, had read every book he could get his hands on, but while Voldemort worked on curses and spells, Harry read books handed to him by the brainy Hermione Granger about twin wands and spells regarding them.**

**While there was only a slight difference between their power, one of them had the advantage, unknown to the onlookers. Harry aimed his wand at Voldemort's and said the spell Hermione had forced him to practice day after day. "Vamod Deoul Lav Desu'dofe!" Both of their wands soared to the ground before bursting into flames.**

"**Wha-" Voldemort said in shock. Harry grinned mischievously and pulled out a spare wand, one he had recently recovered from his father's possessions. The Dark Lord didn't even have the time to think about how much shit he was in before his death came at the words he had used so many times before.**

"**Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort let out an inhuman scream and fell to the ground, his flesh turning into liquid. His innards melted away, leaving the ground stained with the red and peach fluid, only to be joined by the bones. The fluid hardened before catching on fire, leaving no trace of a person to be found. The wands they had become so accustomed to using left black splotches on the half-dead grass.**

Harry woke to a loud, shaking world. "Harry!" Ron shook Harry's shoulders desperately. "Wake up, Harry! It's almost time for dinner!" Harry shoved at Ron, shaking slightly from having such a descriptive dream of the past. He hadn't realized the memory still haunted him.

"I'm coming, Ron. Go on ahead without me." With a huff of impatience, Ron walked out of the room calling for Hermione. Harry picked up the wrinkled letter and shoved it away under his pillow.

Looking over his glasses, he found them to be broken beyond repair. The glass of one eye was shattered, the other was found in pieces scattered over the bed. He tossed them onto his bed and walked out without them.

The Gryffindor set his mind on claiming he found a new spell to fix his eyesight, at least temporarily. Ignoring the protests of the safety of the spell, Harry walked with Hermione and Ron to dinner, listening to the stories from their trip and even throwing in a comment every once in a while to show he was still listening.

At the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, the roar of chatter about their visit was overwhelming to the point where Harry said he had a headache and was going to go to see Madam Pomfrey to get something for it. Along the way, Harry's mind drifted back to when Draco had stopped by the tower.

Against his will, he recalled the kiss that he had forgotten about until just then. Blushing, Harry took a seat at the base of the staircase. Running his tongue along his lips he could still feel Draco's lips there, leaving a lingering tingle. Mentally smacking himself, Harry shook his head.

_Why did Draco kiss me_, he thought silently. _And when did he become 'Draco'_? With another mental slap, Harry stood up. Best not to think about that, Harry thought decidedly. _If I do end up going to that thing tomorrow, which I won't, will he try to kiss me again? Will I push him away if he does_?

"GAH!" Harry shouted aloud, digging his hands into his hair furiously. "I am NOT thinking about that!" He stomped angrily up to his dorm. Collapsing onto his bed, he jumped back up. Glass lay scattered on his bed still.

With a sigh, Harry cleaned up the mess and looked out the open window. His rebellious mind went back to Draco, thinking of the cool lips against his. Sighing resolutely, Harry went to his trunk and dug around for any article of clothing that could be called 'nice'.

"I am not going because I want to!" A nagging part of his mind told him that there was more to it than he was admitting, but Harry pushed it away. He set an outfit aside for the morning and went to take a refreshing shower that, hopefully, would rid himself of those thoughts and his growing headache.

To Be Continued

A/N: See? A better ending! Pwa…Yeah, well, I got this one out the fastest, I think, but it is also the worst, in my opinion. But look! I DO have a plot! Not much of one, but I do. Really. Yeah, well, until next time. Review? And please be gentle…my heart is very fragile…


	5. Part Five: Dancing

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Uhm…Two updates in one day. Who would've guessed. Anyway, not much to say here, so I'll get on with it. Here's part five!

"Mask"

Part Five:

"Dancing"

It was five in the morning when Harry came in from his nightly flight. He gazed blankly at his bed for a minute before turning his back on it. In one hand he gripped his Firebolt; in the other he swiped up the outfit he would wear to the Malfoy function that day.

The halls were eerily quiet as Harry made his way out of the castle. Freshly showered and a bit damp, Harry stepped out into the icy morning air. He tossed the Firebolt into the air and mounted it with practiced ease. Floating over the lake seemed like a dream. Morning mist rose from the surface and Harry flew so that he just barely skimmed the water with his boots, the mist surrounding him.

The ground across the lake seemed to reek of the horrors of the war, the warmth of the blood of friends, the ice-cold touch of death. Rising a bit, he rode his broom all the way to the town of Hogsmeade, flying between the buildings. Draco stood leaning against a fountain towards the outskirts of town.

Pale fingertips trailed across the frozen surface of the pool; a blank gaze watching the thin ice move beneath his touch. Steel eyes rose to look at Harry as he leapt from his broom, catching it in his grasp as it fell towards him. "I didn't think you'd come."

"I didn't either," Harry said softly as he stepped to stand beside the blonde.

"And yet, here you are." Harry nodded at the melancholy tone. "We should get going. The portkey won't remain active for long," Draco said, starting to head off, away from Hogwarts. "By the way," he began, glancing at the ravenhead as he led the way, "does anyone know where you will be? In case of an emergencies?"

Harry snorted and held back laughter. "What emergency could there be?" Draco shrugged. "I can see the headlines scrolling across the paper. 'Harry Potter On Date With Draco Malfoy When You-Know-Who Rises Again'."

Draco looked at him oddly. "They'd call this a date?"

"Knowing the Prophet, if I was out with _anyone_, they'd call it a date," Harry explained, remembering the episodes he had when Rita Skitter was writing about him, or rather about their precious 'Boy-Who-Lived' and his personal life.

"Would you call this a date?" Draco asked. Pointing to a large rock, he interrupted any response Harry would have said. "That's the portkey. It will take us up to the front of Malfoy Manor, but it won't take us inside because of all the enchantments on the house."

Draco grabbed Harry's wrist and touched a spiraling thorn vine symbol on the rock. The usual sensations occurred, pulling and dizziness among them. Standing tall and large before them stood the grand Malfoy Manor in all it's white, stony glory.

It looked to have been pulled out of a child's fantasy book. It was like a castle; large and looming with white pillars holding it up. A short, black metal fence held in the three-story house and front-yard garden, more grandiose in the back, most likely. Draco walked right through the fence, still holding Harry's wrist as he pulled the Gryffindor with him.

The double-doors opened before they were within five feet of them. A small boy of five or six held the doors open silently as Draco pulled Harry through. Once they were inside, the doors shut loudly. Harry spun around as best as he could while in Draco's grip only to find the boy gone.

Draco pulled him up a long, spiraling staircase. "Harry, move faster. We have to get ready for the…event. Every living Malfoy will be attending, along with a few others you might recognize from the war." He pulled Harry into the first room on the second floor.

Harry whimpered when he found himself tossed on the bed. Before any thoughts of what it could mean crossed his mind, he found clothes being thrown at him, sticking to his face. "Get dressed and come meet me next door," Draco said hurriedly before racing out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

With a heavy sigh, Harry eyed the complicated wizard's robes with distaste. He snorted and looked at his own clothes. "Technically, he never said I had to wear these," Harry muttered, moving to look at what else Draco had stashed away in the closet.

After searching through everything there, Harry picked some out and slipped those on instead of the robes. Hopefully Draco wouldn't mind. And he didn't. A long-sleeved silk button-up ruby shirt over a pair of rather tight black pants looked really great. Harry sniffed and shifted under his gaze.

"Sorry I didn't wear what you picked out, but it was so…complicated." Draco just made an odd noise and stood up. If he had complained, Draco would have been a hypocrite, seeing as he chose to wear something even less formal. He wore black jeans and a dark green turtleneck that hugged every muscle in his body.

Hours later, Harry found himself the center of attention for the many Malfoys, boys and girls, and was steadily falling asleep. He constantly had to deny people dances. A thick, cold voice sounded softly from behind him close to his ear. "Mister Potter, who would have expected to find you here."

Harry turned around to come face-to-face with Severus Snape. "P-Professor!" More than a little mortified that he had been caught at such a place, he found himself blushing.

"Severus, how good of you to come," Draco said from behind him. The Slytherin draped an arm over Harry's shoulders, distracting him from the leering gaze of his professor. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"As much as one could at a party like this." Severus huffed irritably. "I really didn't expect to see you here, Draco, more-so than young Potter here. After all, you are the one who-"

Cutting him off abruptly, Draco turned to Harry. "Come dance with me, Harry." Before Harry or Severus could say anything contrary, Draco dragged the ravenhead to the middle of all the dancing and took up the lead, spinning him around to the beat of the song.

"Sorry to make you dance. I know you hate it."

Harry smiled through his embarrassment at such closeness. "I know you hate hearing about the incident. You hate hearing about it more than I hate dancing, so I guess I can deal with it for a while."

Draco smiled gratefully. "Actually, it's not that I don't want to hear about it. I don't want to hear people talk about it as if I wanted to kill them. It's not like I had a choice, Harry."

"I know that, Draco. You don't have to talk about it."

"I loved them. Really, I did. Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater, was not my father. Neither was Narcissa Malfoy, Death Eater Wife. They were different when they were at home." Draco sighed and rested his head on Harry's shoulder, allowing him to take the lead in a much softer dance while he talked.

"I was never evil, Harry. I just wanted him to be proud of me. Actually, killing them in that battle was probably the only thing he'd ever be proud of me for doing." Draco laughed while Harry remained a bit disturbed at that. "Not killing him, really. He would be proud that I didn't do everything I was told; that I followed my own heart instead, even if it meant killing my own parents and my own friends."

Draco sighed and pulled Harry tight against him. Oblivious to the hundreds of eyes on them, they finished their dance in silence and then walked out. The party to celebrate the lives of the people that both boys had helped to destroy meant nothing to them.

They used another portkey and returned to Hogwarts just in time to walk past the students eating dinner in the Great Hall. Draco and Harry walked side-by-side, Harry holding his Firebolt tightly, until they were forced to go opposite directions. A small smile from each, and they walked off in silence.

That night, Harry walked out to the Quidditch Pitch but left his broom inside. He hadn't changed out of the clothes he'd borrowed from Draco, and had avoided his friends all day. With a sigh, Harry laid in the middle of the field and stared at the sky.

Quiet steps alerted Harry to another's presence. Without looking, Harry said, "Hey Draco." Said boy sat next to him, leaning back on his elbows to look at the sky with him. Emerald eyes glanced out of the corner of his eyes at the Slytherin Prince. "You didn't change yet?"

"Neither did you, it seems." Draco looked over at him with a crooked grin of amusement. Harry shrugged and stretched out with a yawn. After a moment, Draco spoke up again. "I hope it wasn't too bad of a day."

"If Snape wasn't there, it probably wouldn't have been so bad."

"But if he wasn't there, I wouldn't have gotten you to dance," Draco said softly, laying back and resting his head against the side of Harry's arm. "I can't see why you don't like to dance. You are a really good dancer. Leading or not."

Harry laughed and looked over at the blonde. Silver moonlight made his pale skin and blonde hair glow beautifully. Harry sat up and looked down at him in silence. Steel eyes watched him with a growing curiosity. Caught up in the moment, Harry leaned down and kissed him softly.

To Be Continued

A/N: Bwaha…I did say 'maybe' didn't I? Plus, with two updates in one day you can't really complain and you know it. I am evil, I know. I had the day off of work so I just sat here and wrote. I hope I'm not moving things along too quickly. I'm trying to keep a slow, steady pace. Oh well…Review? Beware, I have a delicate heart.


	6. Part Six: Lucius' Gift to Narcissa

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Hehe…n.n Part Six! Thank you to everyone reading my stories, even if you don't leave a review. Oh, and I threw in an odd couple, one of my favorites, though, for explanation and the fact that I don't see too many people pairing them together. No real plot-line purpose for them together, fyi. Well, onto the update!

"Mask"

Part Six:

"Lucius' Gift to Narcissa"

Harry laughed and looked over at the blonde. Silver moonlight made his pale skin and blonde hair glow beautifully. Harry sat up and looked down at him in silence. Steel eyes watched him with a growing curiosity. Caught up in the moment, Harry leaned down and kissed him softly.

Pushing up off the ground minutely, pressing up into the kiss. A cough broke them apart, both turning to the source. "As cute as that is, boys, I do think I should protest to such intimate behavior on school grounds."

Both boy jumped to their feet, faces burning crimson with embarrassment. Thin wire glasses were pushed up by a scarred finger, cool hazel eyes shimmering wickedly. "Professor Lupin, I was just…"

"Enough, Mister Malfoy. I saw your…display at the Manor. No need for explanations. However, you both should be in bed and keeping such activities in private, away from the school." Remus sniffed, shifting the blanket around his shoulders.

"Remus, wha…How did you…?" Harry stuttered, unable to keep from blushing all the more.

"I went as a favor to a friend of mine. Regardless, I think you should hurry up to bed before I am forced to discipline you; both of you." Without need for more, the two hurried back inside, not even looking back.

Remus sighed, letting his glasses slide down his nose a bit so that he could pinch the space between his eyes where a headache was forming. Getting older was such a pain; not to mention the werewolf in him. He hadn't even needed glasses until just after the war.

"Nicely handled, Remus," a warm voice whispered into his ear, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders. "It's not good for you to be outside this late. You'll catch a chill." Smooth black hair caresses his cheek as a gentle kiss was pressed to the side of his neck.

"It's not good for you to do things like that to me in public, Severus," Remus responded, turning to meet the pestering lips with his own. Severus pulled back a bit, leading the tired man through the twists and turns towards the dungeons.

The next day, classes were held like normal, but Draco took every opportunity to be with Harry while Harry did the same. This went unnoticed for the first five seconds. "Oi, Ferret-boy! Why are you over here and not with your murdering buddies?" Ron growled, unable to control himself.

The comment earned him an elbow in one side from Hermione and another in his gut from Harry, although that one made him cough and wheeze. Hermione looked off in another direction, purposefully ignoring how hard Harry had struck him. _He deserves it_, she thought quietly, watching as Harry left with Draco.

After a few minutes of silence, Draco said, "Is it bad that Lupin saw us?" Harry stopped in his tracks and stared at the blonde. "I think I'll take that as a yes."

"No, no. It's not bad that Remus saw us. It is bad that Snape saw us last night."

"Naw. He wouldn't say anything." Draco nodded proudly. "But the fact that both of them were there makes me wonder who else was. It was supposed to be a private party. Only family and close friends knew about it. Only those invited would be able to find the manor, anyway." When Harry looked at him oddly, he explained, "It moves around a lot. That's why the portkey would only work for a short amount of time."

"Oh," Harry muttered. "Who else went, then?" Draco shrugged. "Let's hope that no one would get us in trouble from all that." Draco nodded, then froze as if just remembering something. He grabbed a hold on Harry's hand and ran off towards the dungeons.

"What is it, Draco?" The blonde said it was a secret, a devious look on his face as he absent-mindedly muttered the password into the Slytherin dorms. Pulling Harry past all the doors, he came to a room at the end of the hall and muttered yet another password.

The door swung inward, revealing a large four-poster bed, bathroom off to the left, dresser, and even a large closet. Harry barely managed to make a squeaking noise as the door shut behind him. "My room," Draco told him matter-of-factly as he dove for the large trunk at the end of his bed. "I know it's in here, I swear!"

"Know what's in there? What are you looking for?" Harry walked over, dodging books and clothing as Draco tossed them aside. Growling with frustration, Draco ran to the closet, dragging out another trunk. Diving into this on with the same ferocity as the last, he continued tossing things behind him and, not intentionally, of course, at Harry.

"Found it!" he announced after a minute of intense digging. He held up a small navy blue book proudly in both hands. "It was Father's first gift to my mother," he explained as Harry opened his mouth to ask.

"Oh," Harry nodded, eyeing the box curiously.

"This shade of blue is…was her favorite color," Draco muttered, running his fingers over the top and sides of the silky box. "He gave it to her on their first real date. Yes, Harry, it was an arranged marriage, but they both fell in love. Sadly, it was after they'd married. When they realized they were in love, they went to have dinner at Indulgence, a very expensive restaurant, even for him. After they ate, he gave her this as a token of his love."

"But when I saw them together last, they seemed so distant from each other," Harry said, hesitant to rain on his parade. Draco just laughed and nodded, clutching the box tightly to his chest.

"Outside the house we were all different. We only had a heart at home, alone." Draco stared at the box, sadness creeping in around the joy he'd had at finding the box and explaining it's significance to Harry.

It took the Slytherin a well-timed breath before he could open the box at last. Harry stepped closer, leaning over to see inside the delicate box. It was a ring. Tiny dolphins leapt across the wiry silver band, their eyes made of shinning sapphire stones.

"It doesn't look like much, but Mother wasn't a very flashy person. She always had favored the simple and small." Draco picked up the ring and admired it with loving eyes. "Father had put a protection spell on it for her. Should the bearer get attacked, the force would be weakened greatly.

"Mother wore it until the day she died," Draco added sadly. Harry placed a hand on the blonde's arm comfortingly. "Yes, well, I want you to wear this." Harry's breath stopped. "If it's too girly, you can use a concealing charm. No, I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm simply asking you to…be my…uh…boyfriend." Draco blushed a bit, having ended up muttering the last part.

To Be Continued

A/N: Heh… (Cough) I swear I didn't leave a cliffy! I swear it! …Okay, so I did…But I felt so…I just wanted to leave a bad ending. I've already started the next chapter and I may even have it posted by the time you read this, if you're lucky. Uhm, so…review? n.n And be nice?


	7. Part Seven: Lightning

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: (Cough) Look! Another update, like…an hour after the last. Whoo! Yay for me and my bad endings! I'm too tired to write much more, so I won't update again today. But anyway, here's part seven. Enjoy.

"Mask"

Part Seven:

"Lightning"

It took the Slytherin a well-timed breath before he could open the box at last. Harry stepped closer, leaning over to see inside the delicate box. It was a ring. Tiny dolphins leapt across the wiry silver band, their eyes made of shinning sapphire stones.

"It doesn't look like much, but Mother wasn't a very flashy person. She always had favored the simple and small." Draco picked up the ring and admired it with loving eyes. "Father had put a protection spell on it for her. Should the bearer get attacked, the force would be weakened greatly.

"Mother wore it until the day she died," Draco added sadly. Harry placed a hand on the blonde's arm comfortingly. "Yes, well, I want you to wear this." Harry's breath stopped. "If it's too girly, you can use a concealing charm. No, I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm simply asking you to…be my…uh…boyfriend." Draco blushed a bit, having ended up muttering the last part.

Harry stared in silence for a moment. As he opened his mouth to speak, Draco said, "You don't have to answer right away. I know a relationship with people like us should be kept secret and if you can do without the subterfuge, just say so."

Harry grinned and shook his head. "You should know that I'm all for subterfuge, contumacy, and the like. Anyway, that ring doesn't scream 'I came from a Slytherin' and it really doesn't look like something a Malfoy would own."

Draco nodded silently, his heart dropping with each word for he hadn't been given an answer yet. "Heh," Harry ran his hand back through his hair a bit nervously. "I tend to babble when I get nervous. But to get to the point, my answer is 'yes'."

Softly taking the ring from the shock-frozen boy with a soft laugh, Harry slid the ring onto his left hand; the ring-finger to be exact. A happy grin flittered across the face of the son of a Death Eater as he pressed a soft kiss to the lips of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry didn't bother to hide the ring, but he did toss Mask out the window, at least for the day to show Draco how happy he was. Keen eyes found the ring immediately as Harry sat down to eat dinner that night.

"Oh my god, Harry! Who on earth gave you that?" Hermione asked, grabbing his hand. The Gryffindors around them all snapped to attention, watching as Hermione turned his hand this way and that, admiring the ring.

"No one," Harry said impassively. The ring was beautiful but not too showy, just as Draco had said his mother liked her belongings. _It still looks expensive_, thought Harry as he ignored the many questions about the ring. He pulled his hand back when food appeared.

After dinner, Draco caught Harry's eye. The blonde slipped a piece of paper into one of his books, acting as if it were his bookmark and making sure Harry saw. The blonde said something to his friends and headed towards the Gryffindor table.

Every eye was on him as he stopped next to Harry. He ignored the rude comments from Ron and locked steel eyes to emerald. "Here's that book I talked to you about before. See ya next session." Without a word of explanation, he walked back to his friends.

"What'd he mean 'session'?" Harry shook his head, looking at the book. It was a the standard textbook for Draco's Arithmancy courses. "You aren't taking that class, are you?" Ron asked, looking at the book.

"No," Harry answered, standing up. "See ya guys back at the common room. I have to go see Remus about something." Minutes of useless talking later and Harry was out of the Great Hall and on his way back to his dorm.

He picked the paper out of the book carefully and turned it over to read it. "_Meet me after dinner. You know where._" Harry turned it over expecting to find more clarification, but found none. Taking a right instead of a left, the ravenhead wandered towards the Quidditch field.

He took a seat on the grass and flopped backwards, staring at the sky with a blank mind. _This must be the place Draco was talking about_, Harry thought. _There's no other place that I can think of, at least not one that is still in Hogwarts_.

"Harry," a soft voice said. Harry tilted his head back and saw Draco standing there. The blonde paused before sitting next to him. Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked over at the Slytherin. Steel eyes focused on his face after a moment.

"Why'd you want to meet me? Is something wrong?" Harry asked, a bit of concern in his voice and in his eyes.

"Well, maybe." Harry sat up and turned to him. "Do you know who Sebastian James is?" A moment of thought, and Harry shook his head. "He is the fiancé of Crystal Malfoy, and a transfer student from private studies to Slytherin house. Do you know who Crystal is by any chance?"

"No, I don't. What are you getting at?" Harry eyed him curiously, a bit of nervousness creeping in.

"She was one of the girls you turned down at the party. She wanted to dance, and you told her you don't dance, but then…" With a shrug of his shoulders, he stopped talking.

"But then I danced with you, right?" Draco just nodded.

"She told Sebastian about that, and now he's threatening to tell the Prophet." Harry could have sworn he heard his heart stop, his breath catching. "There's nothing I can do to stop him. He has never been one for tradition or family. He doesn't even care about his fiancé's name, which he will be taking after they marry."

Draco turned and looked Harry in the eye. "If you want to call it off now, you can. It might be best if you do. You don't need more publicity, and I really don't care what the wizarding world thinks of me; never have, really."

"No. I've dealt with things like this before. I can handle it. I won't let anything this small make me doing something I don't want." Draco smiled happily, forgetting about the looming threat of Sebastian and the Prophet.

"Now, just tell me this: How I'm supposed to explain these 'sessions' and a Arithmancy book?"

Draco grinned and tackled Harry to the ground, sitting on his stomach. "Study sessions. You are helping me with my school subjects and I am teaching you Arithmancy in return. This will explain why we are together and why we aren't fighting."

"Ah," Harry grunted, pushing Draco off. "That's so elegantly Slytherin of you," he said jokingly, prodding the boy in the stomach. "We should probably try to figure out how to stop that guy from going to the Prophet." Draco sat up and laughed nervously. "What?"

"I told him, 'Go ahead and tell the papers, you insecure pompous, dick-sucking poseur'. I don't think I can talk him out of it after that." Harry bit his cheek to keep from smiling. "We should go inside, though. Don't want rumors to start." Draco winked.

"Funny, Draco. Very funny." But Harry stood up anyway, moments before Draco did. With a silent kiss goodbye, the two headed off to their separate common rooms. Harry was glad to have talked with him, regardless of the topic of conversation.

Questions ran amok about Draco and Harry, rumors having spread like wildfire throughout the hall when Draco had left moments after Harry had. Both boy spent the evening making up answers to the questions, sticking to the idea Draco had mentioned earlier.

Late that night, Harry flew through the halls on his Firebolt, fading into the shadows whenever he felt the tingle of the magical aura of a wandering teacher. Several times, the ravenhead barely got out of sight before he was seen.

He flew out into the open Quidditch field, soaring up into the air. Thick rain fell but Harry ignored it, careful to avoid solid objects. It was a full moon. Remus would be out of commission, at least for tonight.

Lightning struck one of the goalposts causing Harry to fly closer to the ground. Dark lips parted to let the notes of his song ring out around him. Emerald eyes found no Slytherin near as the rain soaked through his clothes. He ignored the ringing in his ears that sang of danger, trying to finish the tune.

Mere seconds from finishing, a flash of white announced Draco's presence. The song caught in his throat as lightning flashed, heading towards the blonde. Like most of nature, lightning could not be predicted. At the last minute, it swerved and struck Harry's chest.

To Be Continued

A/N: x.x Bwaha. I am fast. (Dance) Yeah, I like to leave bad endings. So sue me. Actually, on second thought…please don't…I barely have enough money to pay my bills as it is. Anyway, I would love it if you'd review? Be nice to me, though. n.n


	8. Part Eight: Deception

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Meh…Update for you from the girl who stayed up too late. Enjoy part eight of "Mask"!

"Mask"

Part Eight:

"Deception"

A scream stuck in his chest threatened to be released as wide eyes met the blue lightning coursing through his body. The Firebolt flickered before catching fire. Harry slid from the firey broom when the electricity halted. Twenty feet to the grass was nothing to any normal person, really. Twenty feet to the grass unconscious with a burning piece of wood falling after you is not a good thing, to say the least.

Grouchy at having been woken up so late, Madam Pomfrey opened her door to find a frantic Draco Malfoy cradling a very burnt Harry Potter in his arms protectively. "Oh, Merlin! Put him down on that bed over there! Hurry, boy!"

Draco didn't need to be told twice. He gently set the boy on the bed and sat back a bit. While he did care for the Gryffindor, he was glad to have the smell of burning flesh weaken. "Strip him as best you can, and be gentle."

"Speed and quality don't always go together," Draco shouted angrily as he peeled the scraps of fabric from the large wounds as gently as he could. Skin fell away, blood and puss leaking out over Draco's fingers unnoticed.

He managed to get most of the uniform off the ravenhead but as he looked him over, his heart stopped in horror. Harry wasn't breathing. "Get back, boy!" Madam Pomfrey shoved him aside roughly, looking desperately for a pulse.

The medinurse jerked out her wand and began spouting off as many breathing spells as her sleep-deprived mind could think of. A gasp from the blackened boy told her that at least one of them had worked. Tears filled Draco's eyes.

The smell of burning flesh had now filled the room and was drifting down the hallway. Draco looked on worriedly as the mediwitch worked, his mind only half there. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep and been moved to one of the vacant beds.

A groan the next morning woke Draco with a start. He jumped from the bed and raced over to where he knew Harry to be. The boy had been wrapped with gauss, the horrible smell gone from the room for the most part. Draco leaned over to examine him closely. A hand tugged at him rudely and Draco spun around, hissing angrily.

Severus leapt back. "Draco!" Said boy ignored him, turning back to the burned boy. "Draco Malfoy! Do not ignore me!" Draco reluctantly turned back around, his glare potent and pissed enough to match even Lord Voldemort's. "You have to tell me what happened, Draco."

"He was hit by lightning," Draco said quickly before turning back to Harry.

"You both were soaking wet, Madam Pomfrey told me. It wasn't raining. Where were you last night, Draco? Draco. Draco!"

"It was raining and we were at the Quidditch pitch." A soft hand fell on his shoulder and Draco snapped his jaws at it. "Go away." Severus sighed and walked out, heading to the headmaster's office to report.

Draco looked Harry over, moving closer. Remembering the night before, he watched the boy's chest rise and fall with each breath. His hands were covered in dry blood, puss, and even bits of Harry's flesh that had come loose.

Worriedly, he touched his bandaged forehead, cheek, and neck, feeling for a pulse at the last stop. The doors to the infirmary banged open, two worried Gryffindors running over to the two of them. "Get away from him, you evil ferret!"

Draco turned around, his eyes ablaze. The two skid to a halt. "If you lay a hand on Harry, Malfoy, I swear I'll kill you!" Hermione screamed, proving to the Slytherin that she wasn't all warm and book-loving.

A fierce growl rose in Draco's throat as he glared at the two of them. "Stay away!" he screamed out hoarsely. Spinning back to Harry, his eyes softened with tears. "Harry…You can wake up now," he whispered, his voice choking partway through and tears falling freely down his ash-covered cheeks.

"Get away from Harry right now, Malfoy!" Ron growled, pulling out his wand. Draco half-turned to look at them. The tears staining the blonde's cheeks caused Ron to fumble his wand, the clattering of the wand rolling away the only sound in the room.

Draco looked down at Harry and climbed up onto the bed with him, laying on his side, parallel to the sleeping boy. "Harry," he croaked out, gently kissing an open space of clean skin on his shoulder. "Harry, I'm here. Draco's here for you."

A soft shine caught his eye and he picked up Harry's hand with the utmost care. Narcissa's ring lay cold and untarnished on his finger. Draco sat up a bit, careful not to force Harry's arm any way it couldn't go, and pressed his lips to the silver that had saved his hand from the flames.

"Mister Malfoy," a warm voice said behind him. Draco looked over, his hands still gently holding onto Harry's. Albus Dumbledore stood tall a few feet away. "Would you come with me for a moment? I have a few things I wish to speak with you about."

"No," he said defiantly, turning back to Harry.

"Alright then, my boy. Severus, would you clear the room and cast the appropriate spells for me?" Severus nodded, leading the occupants out of the infirmary with a glare and snarl. The doors shut silently, Severus doing as he was told and casting the silencing and locking spells that Albus had requested of him.

"Mister Malfoy, would you please tell me what happened? Exactly what happened. Don't forget any detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem." Steel eyes watched the old wizard sit in the chair beside the side of the bed closest to him. "Start from the very beginning."

"From the beginning of today or when…" he paused, glancing down at the ravenhead. He tenderly ran a finger over his bandage-less nose.

"The very beginning," Albus concluded, eyes watching the couple curiously.

"Well, I noticed that he wasn't being himself sometime towards the end of sixth year. I didn't have the nerve to say anything until a few weeks ago. He always goes on these nighttime flights, long after everyone else has gone to bed…" Draco rattled off the entire story, pausing only to answer questions Albus piped in every once in a while.

When Draco reached the part about Harry's fall, he stopped. Albus urged him to go on and Draco nodded. "He fell from that broom of his. The broom was on fire and so was he. I cast a spell to put the flames out on him first, then the broom. The broom hit him soon after he hit the ground.

"I picked him up and ran as fast as I could to the infirmary. Harry was conscious for most of the run and he did…something…Something that made him lighter and the trip faster. I wasn't paying all that much attention to exactly what was going on, but I know he was having us ride the shadows.

"I guess he stopped breathing along the way, but Madam Pomfrey fixed him. He's breathing now, you see, so she must've fixed him. But…but he won't wake." Draco's voice shook.

"Draco, take a deep breath and lay down. Right there is fine, yes." He paused as the blonde followed his instructions. "It was not raining last night, my boy. That was the temper storm of Sebastian James. You were his target since you'd taken Harry from him. I'll explain that part a bit later.

"During those nighttime flights, Harry lets out all of the extra magical energy that he has stored within him. This is why he doesn't need as much sleep as others. The magic within him more than makes up for his sleeplessness.

"When he releases this extra magic, it comes out raw and strong. This is why he glows and why you seem to need less sleep as well. Last night he hadn't finished his song, the spell that releases the magic. His mind knew he wouldn't finish and so it released as much as it could with those last few notes to compensate.

"That is what caused the lightning to swerve and strike Harry himself. That ring you gave him saved his life three times that day, Draco. The ring helped to lessen the blow of the lightning and to heal him almost completely in just a few hours.

"The ring was the one that told his mind he wouldn't finish and had to release as much magic as it could. If it had not, Harry would have died almost immediately." Albus sat back with a deep breath, having finished his in-depth explanation.

Draco blinked, thinking over all that for a minute before saying, "You mentioned that Sebastian was mad because I took Harry from him."

"Ah, yes. Nearly forgot. When Sebastian was born, his parents feared he'd be female, and cast a spell on him that would allow him to change genders spontaneously. He was born female, much to the dismay of his parents. They forced his change to male, and so he grew up that way; his body male but his mind female.

"Like many of the girls, he fell for young Harry here. Crush or love, I'm not sure. He was quite taken with him, I must say." Albus shook his head. "He even came to me and told me of your day at the Manor."

Draco rolled over, turning his back to the wizard. "Meh," was all Draco said before he closed his eyes, sleep washing over him as if it hadn't even heard his name in years. Albus cracked a fatherly smile at the two and stood up.

"Sleep well, you two," he said, pulling the drapes around the bed shut and walking out of the infirmary. A group of worried students and teachers surrounded him. "Harry is fine. He'll be up and about by tomorrow. Let the boy sleep." With that, he headed out.

The group of onlookers tried to peek inside the room as Madam Pomfrey walked back in. She shut the door firmly behind her, making it clear they were not allowed in. The medinurse saw the drawn cloth and shook her head before going about her daily business.

To Be Continued

A/N: Bwahahaha…I are updating again…Oh, I'm good. I'm good and sleep-deprived. The next chapter is almost done. I have three parts of it done but I can't seem to get them to fit together...That's what happens when youdon't sleep, I guess.Also, I'm sorry to say that there will only be two more chapters. Well, two or three…I don't want the chapters to be too long…This one is borderline 'too long'. Although I must warn you, the last chapter doesn't have a plot…really…maybe…Ah, I'm too tired to think…I'm going to bed. Review?


	9. Part Nine: Dream

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Er…Hi? Heh…Sorry my updates are so sporadic. I'm really trying. Also, Sebastian is my own character…If he sounds like anyone from the actual story, it's unintentional. I'm trying to make my explanations blend a bit more with the story, but I'm not very good at things like that…heh…I am trying, though. Getting better. I'll try to throw in some more twists, but as of right now, I can't think of any, sorry. Anyway, onto the story! n.n And thanks to all my reviewers and readers!

"Mask"

Part Nine:

"Dream"

Sheets shifted softly, Harry twisting in the itchy wrappings. Sitting up, he began to pull them off as fast as he could. He looked down at himself when he'd finished and found to be covered in dried blood and other substances with no wounds to be found.

Draco grabbed Harry and pulled him back down, snuggling into the Gryffindor's chest. For a moment, Harry lay frozen as his mind tried to catch up on the events that had occurred. Rain and lightning…Draco…flames…

Harry sat up, prying the sleeping boy's arms off. A new set of clothes had been set near the end of the bed and Harry slipped them on. Pulling back the curtains to the bed, he wandered through the infirmary until Madam Pomfrey spotted him.

"Mister Potter! Good, you're awake. Wait…Where are your bandages?" Harry looked back at the bed silently. "Oh dear me…It seems Albus was correct in saying you would be completely healed in no time at all." The mediwitch shook her head slowly.

"Albus?" Harry asked, his voice as hoarse as Remus' the night after the full moon. The woman nodded softly and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "Where…Why…" Harry started to cough, bending over to stay balanced.

"Sh, sh. Go lay back down. He's most likely still here. You can see him in the morning. It is well after one am, so you can wait. Mister Potter, that boy over there hasn't left this room since he brought you here. At least wait until he wakes up."

Harry wandered back over to the bed and tossed all the used bandages onto the floor before crawling back into bed with the blonde. Draco whimpered softly and turned over on his side, away from Harry. He rested his head down and slowly closed his eyes. A tiredness he hadn't felt in a long time crept over him.

"**Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort let out an inhuman scream and fell to the ground, his flesh turning into liquid. His innards melted away, leaving the ground stained with the red and peach fluid, only to be joined by the bones. The fluid hardened before catching on fire, leaving no trace of a person to be found. The wands they had become so accustomed to using left black splotches on the half-dead grass.**

**The fighting around him started without delay. Voldemort's followers sought revenge or power. The Light side sought to either protect themselves, revenge fallen comrades, or to protect Harry, who stood numb.**

**A flash of blue drew the boy's emerald gaze. Draco stood maybe ten feet from where Voldemort had fallen, by far the closest anyone would get. He stood spouting off an inhuman amount of curses and counter-curses, while his masked opponent did the same.**

**One of the many curses sent Draco's opponent's Death Eater mask flying away in small chunks. Lucius Malfoy snarled angrily and said, "Avada Ked-"**

"**Avada Kedavra!" Draco finished. The blonde oppressor fell with a gasping shriek, falling beside another figure; the body of Draco's previous adversary. Harry watched in shock as Draco plucked the wands up from the bodies of his parents and set the bodies on flame.**

**After a moment's thought, Draco tossed in their wands. "Sakar. Mother. Father." It took only a few minutes for the wizard's fire to consume the couple. Draco wandered off in a sort of trance, casting random curses at Death Eaters around him.**

**A hoarse shout called Harry's attention. He spun to find Albus facing nearly a dozen Death Eaters. _Surely he will die_, Harry's subconscious told him. The resilient fighter spun around and disappeared in a puff of smoke. Not just any smoke, but a smoke with sleeping gas embedded in it.**

**A moist hand gripped his shoulder and Harry turned to meet the gaze of Remus. His hand was covered in blood, though it appeared to be from someone else. "Harry, it's time to go home."**

'**No,' Harry wanted to say. 'It's not over yet. There's still fighting going on and I have to help.' But he said nothing and let himself be led away by the werewolf in a silent self-torture.**

A faint voice broke through Harry's dream and his eyes flew open. Draco looked worriedly at him. "Bad dream?" he whispered softly. Harry nodded silently. "Madam Pomfrey said you wanted to go see Dumbledore?"

"Yeah, I did." Draco moved to get up, but Harry pulled him back down. When Draco opened his mouth to protest, Harry covered it with his own. Moments later, the doors burst open and the pair leapt apart. Shouting announced the entrance of Ron and Hermione.

"-has six parts, Ron! You can't hope to finish it all by tomorrow!" Hermione yelled, placing her fists on her hips as she stood next to the curtained bed. "Don't you look at me like that, Ronald Weasley! You know I'm right! Just say 'hello, hope you get better' and then get back to your studies! He's going to be fine so there's no point in fussing over him now."

"But 'Mione…" The brunette opened her mouth to argue, but snapped her mouth shut when she heard Harry laugh. "Harry!" Ron pulled back the curtain, his face pulling drastic changes from joyous to confused to pissed.

"Hey, Ron. Hermione." Harry jumped from the bed, climbing over Draco in the process.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Ron yelled, pointed furiously at the blonde. "And in_ your_ bed…_with _you!" Harry rested a hand on the fuming boy's shoulder and turned to Hermione.

"Where's Albus?"

"He's with Professor Snape," she answered. "Why do you n-" Trailing off, she sighed. Harry had already walked by her. "Malfoy, why doesn't he have any bandages on? I thought he was really hurt."

"Being civil with me, are you?" Draco sneered, standing up to stretch languidly, oddly resembling a cat. "He wasn't hurt as badly as we had thought. Harry can tell you the rest." He pushed alongside the two, making his way to the door.

"Where do you think you're going, ferret-boy! I'm not through talking to you," Ron screamed to the blonde's back as he turned to go. Lingering in the doorway, Draco turned just slightly to look at them.

"Following Harry."

-To Be Continued

A/N: Heh…I had another dream sequence that I wanted to put in after this, but I wanted to have…well, actually, I don't think I want that dream in here…Hehe…I'm special. (Peace sign) Yeah, anyways…I have decided not to end the story so soon. I'm pestering my friends for ideas on how to continue this, but I have a few ideas. Now…back to watching King Arthur for the millionth time. (Purr) Review?


	10. Part Ten: Illuminations

Title: "Mask"

Author: Lyla Hayden

Rating: Mature, "R", "M", whatever. Warnings are; slash, gore, the usual nasties but nothing too graphic.

Pairing: HP/DM, what else?

Summary: When one bears a mask to become someone else, sometimes that mask becomes who you are, despite all your true thoughts and feelings. Such a mask cannot be shed easily and often times it takes another to rip its roots out. Harry's mask has deep roots, but the one who helps him remove them is the one he would least expect.

A/N: Hullo! n.n Sorry, sorry…I'm having a LOT of problems at home…There's a high chance of me getting committed…bleh…Fun shtuff. Yeah, so, anyway…I have decided to make this the last chapter. I'm sorry if that frustrates anyone, but I can't keep a normal schedule for updating with my home-life and my writer's block. Here's the last chapter for you.

"Mask"

Part Ten:

"Illuminations"

It looked just like Harry remembered it. The Potion Master's office held a large assortment of jars with various items inside. Harry glanced at one jar and jumped back in shock. "A little jumpy today, Mister Potter?" came the cool, hissing voice of Severus.

"Is that…is that a real eye?" Harry asked, pointing at the jar.

"Yes, Potter. It came from one of the children I tortured while in service of Voldemort." At the shocked look on the Gryffindor's face, the professor shook his head. "That's a joke. It's an enchanted eye given to me by a good friend of mine. It can see glimpses of the future."

Harry stood with his jaw wide open. The slimy Potion's teacher had made a joke? A joke aimed towards the great Harry Potter? "Don't tease the boy, Severus. He's had a hard week." Remus stepped in from a hidden door behind Harry.

The ravenhead stared as his guardian went to stand next to Severus, resting one hand comfortably on the greasy professor's shoulder. Harry shook his head silently before asking them impassively, "Where's Albus?"

"Harry," Remus sighed, "Albus is resting. The cancer is spreading."

The boy stood there in silence for a moment before saying softly, "Has anyone found a way around the curses embedded on the tumor?"

"Potter, the tumor has so many curses put on it that would activate and kill anyone who tried to remove it. Regardless, we've been looking. One, maybe two, of the hundreds of them can be taken off, but it wouldn't do us any good at the moment," Severus sighed impatiently.

Remus gently squeezed the man's shoulder. "Albus seems to have accepted the fact that the tumor will grow until it strikes some part of his brain that would cause irreparable damage, or just kill him."

Harry stood in silence, staring off into space. "Harry, why don't you go eat breakfast? I'll come get you when he wakes up." Harry nodded at Remus. "I'll see you in class, Harry. Severus, I think you need to start getting ready for your classes."

Harry left without waiting for a response from the Potions teacher. The halls loomed gloomily as Harry walked by. Light footfalls ahead made emerald look to meet steel. A soft smile graced the beautiful features of Draco's face.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Harry sighed. Questions flew at him madly about where he was, why he came in with Draco, why he wasn't hurt, and other such questions. Blatantly ignoring them seemed to be the best option, but it would just make them ask so many more questions.

"Harry! Are you ignoring us?" The ravenhead looked over at the boys before him and shook his head. "Harry, what happened to you? You don't look like you're all that hurt. Did Malfoy slip a potion into your drink or something?"

"Harry, you've changed so much these past few weeks," Hermione said softly as she scooted closer to him. "What's gotten into you?"

"I haven't changed, 'Mione. I am just not who you want me to be anymore. I'm being Harry Potter, not the Boy-Who-Lived." The Gryffindors stared at him in silence. Harry moved to stand up. Hermione placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"Harry, why did you think you had to be someone else?" Her eyes were brimming with tears and Harry felt his heart twinge at that.

"If I acted like myself all this time, everyone would have been disappointed. But I can't hide behind a mask forever, and I guess I needed someone to show me this." Harry sighed and rubbed at his temples. Explaining this to them was harder than he expected.

"Is that why you're engaged to Malfoy?" His eyes shot up to meet Dean's unwavering gaze. "It says that you two are engaged in the Prophet." As if to collaborate his story, he held up his copy of the paper.

"You…Malfoy…" Ron's face grew steadily redder. Hermione patted his leg gently, trying to calm him down. Whether it was anger at the fact that they might be getting married, or anger at the fact that Harry hadn't told him anything about it, Harry didn't know. All he knew was that if he didn't calm things down soon, he'd lose his very first friend forever.

"We are not engaged," Harry said sternly. "Two men can't even get married, can they?"

"Muggles look down on it, but the Wizarding world is much better at acceptance on that sort of thing, Harry," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Where did the Prophet even get such an idea in the first place?"

"It says here that he, Harry that is, has a ring that use to belong to Malfoy's mother and that he wears it on his left ring finger." Dean looked up from the paper and at Harry's hand. Dolphins with sapphire eyes looked back.

"It was just a present," Harry muttered, blush creeping up onto his face. "We aren't engaged, just dating, and how did they link the ring to engagement anyway?"

"Someone, I don't know who, told the Prophet about it and had pictures of the two of you dancing at some party." Dean set the Prophet on the table only to have Ron snatch it up just as his hand left the paper. "Harry, when did you go to a party with Malfoy?"

"It was a while ago," Harry said distantly. Could Sebastian have taken the pictures and story to the Prophet? It was possible. No one else bothered to ask him any more questions. Even if they had, Harry didn't hear them.

After breakfast, Harry wandered off to class a few minutes later than all his friends. Hands grabbed him an pulled him inside an empty classroom. "Harry, did you see the Prophet this morning?"

Harry squinted at the dark shape. "Draco?" The blonde sighed and flicked the lights on. "Oh, it is you. And yes, I did see the paper. Dean showed it to me."

"This…is…SO not good, Har." Harry stayed silent, hoping the boy would explain on his own. "I don't mean the implication is bad. My father would be so mad at me if he was still alive. Then again, my mother would be happy and start planning the wedding." Draco paused to allow himself a little smile.

"What's bad about the Prophet thinking that?" Harry asked skeptically after a moment.

"Right, well, my relatives are going to read it and they will either disown me or plan the wedding out from start to finish without asking if the story is true or not." Harry frowned. Draco looked over at him and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

The Slytherin wrapped his arms around Harry and drew him close. The ravenhead returned the embrace. "Well, there's only one thing we can do, Draco." The blonde pulled back a bit to look at him. "Let's make the story true."

It took him a moment to understand the meaning of that statement. "You mean, you want to get married?" Harry thought for a minute, then nodded. "That would be…wonderful." He smiled softly and pulled Harry into a deep kiss.

End-

A/N: …I'm bad with endings, I know. Plus, this whole chapter was pure improvisation. Please don't shoot me. (Whimper) I'll fix my profile when I post this…It looks odd right now…Yeah, so please be nice in your reviews.


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